


I'd Choose You.

by Michaelssw0rd



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Insecurity, John being ridiculous, M/M, Nightmares, and Harold being the awesomest boyfriend ever!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssw0rd/pseuds/Michaelssw0rd
Summary: John wakes up from a nightmare that makes him feel vulnerable and insecure. Fortunately, Harold is there to help him chase away his demons.





	I'd Choose You.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xLostLenore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLostLenore/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEENA SWEETIE. I know you might not be around to read it right now, but I hope whenever you feel good and up for reading some Rinch, you will find this and enjoy it. ♥ 
> 
> I wrote this wow, quite a long time ago, months and months, on Leena's prompt, but it ended up being painfully personal and I just couldn't even bring myself to re-read it, let alone post it.  
> Now, on her birthday, I find myself brave enough to share.

John opens his eyes, his heart beating fast, and his nails are digging into the pulp of his hand. He deliberately relaxes his clenched grip, wondering if he will find crescent shaped wounds on his hand later. Resolutely ignoring the wetness on his cheeks, he takes deep calming breaths, willing his heart rate to slow down. It takes him a while to register he is awake, that it was just a nightmare.

That he is lying in bed, with Finch by his side.

With a sigh that comes out more like a sob, John turns around and snuggles into the warm body next to him, his arm going around Harold’s waist, and pulling him closer towards himself. He buries his nose in the scratchy hair at Harold’s nape and breathes in his scent- warm, comforting and familiar- trying to chase away the remnants of the bad dream with it. With every inhale, he feels like the ache in his chest lessening, so he clutches tighter, closes his eyes, and breathes.

He must’ve been suffocating Harold, because he wakes up slowly, trying to pull away. The action causes John’s arms to tighten, a whine of protest spilling from his throat, making him flush in embarrassment- but not enough for him to relax his grip. Even half asleep, Harold somehow senses his distress, because he stops trying to disentangle and goes lax in his arms.

 “Good morning,” Harold says, voice rough with sleep.

“’Morning,” John mumbles, rubbing his nose up and down Harold’s skin, lightly.

He knows Harold is waiting for him to speak, to explain why he is behaving the way he is, but John doesn’t think he can get the lump out of his throat long enough to speak.

“Alright, John?” he asks after a while, and fresh tears prickle at John’s eyes at hearing the words, relieved and grateful that Harold chose to use his first name. In the dream, it was a cold, ‘ _I am sorry, Mr. Reese_.’

He doesn’t want to answer the question, but he never lies to Harold either. So he stays still, neither accepting nor denying it, but that is answer enough. Harold sighs and pats John’s arm where it’s wrapped around him, rubbing it soothingly.

When John thinks he is calm enough to speak- not to let go yet, not that- but to form sentences without choking, he says, “I dreamt about you last night.”

Harold stiffens, but deliberately does not pull away, not even to turn towards him. John is grateful. He isn’t sure he can face him right now.

“And I assume your dreams weren’t of carnal nature,” Harold teases, when John is not forthcoming with details. The joke takes John off guard, punching a laugh out of his chest.

He shakes his head lightly, chuckling. God, he loves this man so much. He loves him even more when he doesn’t pry. He just waits for John to make up his mind, and John knows that if he decides to not elaborate, Harold would let it go.

But he realizes that he doesn’t want to brush it off. He wants to share, even if that is the selfish course of action. Kissing the skin under his lips, he whispers, trying and failing to keep the misery out of his voice, “You had to choose, between me and…”

He doesn’t say the name. It’s like an unspoken decision to never speak it. But he is sure Harold understands it anyway, by the way he exhales sharply. It sounds like her name. _Grace_.

Harold does pull away then, only to turn around and look at him. “I take it that I didn’t choose you… in the dream.”

John looks away, closing his eyes. Behind his closed eyelids, he cannot stop seeing Harold taking a step down the altar, holding out his hand to help Grace climb up. Harold’s eyes had found his in the dream, full of pity and disdain, before turning away towards his beautiful bride, and John knows he cannot bear to see the same look in reality as well.

“John.” Fingers caressed his face, gently coaxing it back towards Harold. “I don’t have to choose. I am here now. In your bed. In your arms. Let the nightmares go.”

John nods tightly, but doesn’t open his eyes. He knows he is being ridiculous. He doesn’t have to compete with Grace. She isn’t a part of Harold’s life anymore. But there’s a little voice inside his head that whispers, ‘ _what if she was_?’ John does not want to find the answer to that.

Harold huffs against his chest, before pulling away entirely. “This is frankly ridiculous.”                  

John tries not to whine at the loss, but is rewarded by Harold moving until he is straddling him, bending down until their forehead touch. “John,” he whispers, and John refuses to open his eyes still. “My dear John. If there ever came a day where I had to choose after all…” John shakes his vehemently. He doesn’t want that. Doesn’t want to hear what is coming, not right now, not when he feels cracked open and vulnerable. “My choice would always be you.”

His eyes snap open at that. Bewildered. Harold pulls up a little, his hands cupping John’s jaw, his thumbs caressing his cheeks, which he finds- to his utter shame- wet again. Yet, there is no pity in Harold’s eyes, no scorn. There’s an oasis of affection there, of understanding. Of love.

“Wha…”

“You, John. I would choose you. In this lifetime, and in every lifetime after this. My soul has found a part of itself in you, and I don’t think I can ever live without it again. I don’t want to.”

John just stares at Harold in helpless wonder, unable to formulate words.

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re surprised!” Harold’s voice is tinged with disbelief, his eyes searching John’s face. “You are… aren’t you? All that genius, and yet _this_ \- your own worth- is something of a blind spot for you.”

“But…” The name hovers in the air, John reluctant to speak it.

“Grace,” Harold says it, and the knife-in-the-gut pain John is expecting doesn’t come. “As much as I am fond of her, as much as I will always want to protect her… she can’t even compare.” Harold admits, and John is filled with shame at how good it feels to hear that. “She was a beautiful idea. She made me want to be a better person, to live a lie. But you John. You _make_ me a better person, no lies, no secrets.”

John looks at the beloved face, softened with sleep and affection, above him, and finds it hard to breathe. He cannot believe what he is hearing. Harold seems to sense that, because he asks, “Or are you saying you would choose Ms. Jessica over me?”

The question takes him off guard. That is another name they never take. John has not even thought of her in months. He shakes his head, whispering “No.” Harold has to know this, has to know how much he means to John. How could he even…

“Glad we have settled that.” Harold smiles, pressing their foreheads again. John relaxes, the last shadows of the nightmare being washed away by the warmth of the man, his light.

“Now, I, on the other hand, had much more pleasurable dreams,” he murmurs after a while, sitting up and smirking at John. “What’s your stance on reenacting those instead?”

John laughs. If it’s a little wet, Harold doesn’t call him out on it, as he allows John to pull him down, and turn him over, and kiss him senseless.

**Author's Note:**

> I have exam in a few hours, so if you're reading this, send some good vibes my way ♥... also, I don't really need to repeat that comments are food for my soul.


End file.
